He turned down an aisle and spotted an abandoned shopping cart leaning against a collapsed shelf. Without hesitation, he grabbed it, the wheels squeaking loud against the ssy floor.
"Perfect. Now I’m just your average teen on a late-night grocery run."
He said, pushing it forward like nothing outside could touch him. His eyes swept the ruined interior, noting how every detail felt handcrafted. Cans scattered, milk cartons bloated and split, posters peeling from the wall. He slowed, smiling wider.
"Seeing this in-ga was just another texture pack. But here? Damn. It’s gorgeous. The world design is insane. Creepy, yeah, but... I don’t know. Gorgeous."
For a mont, he basked in the solitude. No mobs rushing him, no chat spamming emotes, no flashing scoreboard climbing in the corner of his vision. Just silence. Just him. He leaned on the cart, muttering,
"When I used to do groceries back ho, I had to disguise myself just to get peace. Hoodie, cap, shades... full camo mode. Didn’t matter. The fans would still find . Once they crowded so bad in the store, I dropped my basket, ran out, and starved for a week. Couldn’t even grab ran. But here?"
He gestured at the empty aisles with mock grandeur.
"No humans. No fans. Just and my groceries. This place... is perfect."
He slipped his headphones over his ears even though they weren’t plugged into anything, humming like he had music blasting. With a kick off the floor, he hopped onto the cart and let it roll.
"And now for the Sid Wilder special... grocery cart freestyle tour!"
He bent his knees, striking over-the-top stances as the wheels squealed against the tiles. One hand spread wide like he was surfing, then both hands gripping the edge like he was racing down a track. He spun the cart around in clumsy circles, leaning left, leaning right, laughing under his breath.
"Yeah! World champ on aisle three!"
He shouted, twisting his body as if a stadium was watching. Finally, he crouched low like a skater, shooting forward with the cart rattling under him. The wheels snagged on a crack, and he crashed straight into a shelf. Cans toppled, rolling across the floor in every direction. Sid groaned from the floor, sprawled on his back.
"Okay... not my cleanest trick. Ten outta ten landing, though."
He laughed weakly, brushing dust off his jacket as the flashlight rolled in lazy circles nearby. He sat up, snatched his flashlight, and dusted himself off.
"Alright, fun’s over. Ti for a serious dungeon run."
He grinned, the beam swaying as he pushed the cart forward, weaving between toppled racks. The blue line on his HUD still pointed deeper into the store, but his stomach wasn’t craving "essentials" like water or canned beans. He licked his lips.
"Forget the boring survival rations. First stop... chips. The real apocalypse fuel. Question is... what kind of chips do they got in another world? We talking Prango Rolls? Laysh? Maybe so weird knockoff like Crunchos?"
He snickered at his own joke and turned a corner, his flashlight catching shelves stacked with torn bags and boxes.
Most of the wrappers were ruined, split open, mold curling at the edges, or gnawed through by rats long gone. He ripped one pack open and gagged at the sll of rot, tossing it aside. Another bag crumbled to dust in his hand. He cursed under his breath, kicking the shelf hard enough to rattle the remaining products.
"Are you kidding ?! You drop a gar here without a single fresh chip?!"
His stomach growled, his mouth watering just from the thought. He shouted, the words echoing through the silent store.
"I swear, if I don’t get chips, I’m uninstalling this whole world!"
Sowhere deep in the dark, a sound answered... not words, not footsteps. A thick, wet drag scraped across the tiles, slow and steady, like sothing heavy being pulled. Each pause ca with a squelching wheeze that made the air feel colder.
Sid didn’t notice. Headphones clamped over his ears, he muttered to himself as he scoured the shelves.
"Co on, give sothing. Even just plain flavors will do it for ... just please."
Minutes stretched into nearly half an hour. He scavenged through aisle after aisle, tossing useless bags into the cart until finally, the dim beam of his flashlight caught a miracle.
On the bottom shelf, wedged behind a collapsed box of cereal, sat a plastic cylinder. Its red label faded but intact, the seal unbroken. Sid pulled it out with trembling hands and blew the dust off. The brand na was barely legible: Prango Rolls. A stack of curved potato crisps, safe inside the airtight tube.
"No way... jackpot."
The system chid.
[Prango Rolls x1 acquired.]
Sid hugged the canister to his chest like treasure, grinning from ear to ear.
"Finally! Is this it? RNGesus strear luck actually kicking in for ?"
Behind him, the dragging sound grew closer. The wheeze, thicker now, carried across the aisles. Sothing heavy and bloated was pulling itself toward him.
Sid twisted the cap off the Prango Rolls with both hands, the pop echoing like music in the empty store. He tipped the tube and slid one crisp into his mouth, crunching slowly. His eyes widened, and he almost laughed.
"Wait... this actually tastes good? No, this is too good. This is salty, crispy, greasy happiness. My taste buds are in heaven right now. Five stars, would munch again."
He shoved another chip into his mouth and kept walking, his cart rattling behind him. Crumbs stuck to his fingers as he licked the dust away, savoring it like he had just hit a jackpot. He nodded to himself, muttering,
"Alright. Junk food secured. Now let’s level up to real food. Sothing canned. Sothing actually healthy. Maybe beans, maybe soup... just anything that lasts. Can’t speedrun apocalypse mode on chips alone."
He turned into the food section, his flashlight beam sweeping across shelves that once held order but now looked like graveyards.
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